


Fall For A Shooting Star

by enjolraspermittedit



Category: Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Complicated Relationships, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Gay Nick Carraway, Gun Violence, Jay Gatsby Lives, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, bisexual jay gatsby, lots of emotions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2018-12-01 18:36:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11492283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enjolraspermittedit/pseuds/enjolraspermittedit
Summary: Nick Carraway takes a bullet for Jay Gatsby. He survives. Not long after, Daisy Buchanan flees East Egg with her husband and daughter. Nick does his best to help Gatsby through his heartbreak, all while secretly being in love with Gatsby himself.





	1. Chapter 1

Jay Gatsby was waiting - waiting for a phone call from Daisy Buchanan, to be specific. He knew that she had to call him, as there was no reason for her not to. He tried to relax in his pool and ignore the gradual passing of time, hours coming and going without a word.

Nick Carraway was supposed to be at work, but instead he sat alone inside his house, looking out his window into Gatsby’s yard. Nick had been halfway to the train when he suddenly got an urge to go back home, an urge too strong to ignore. He’d already rejected Gatsby’s invitation to go swimming, but perhaps he should reconsider...

Without another second of hesitation, Nick made his way over to his neighbor’s house. He wondered if Daisy had ever called Jay. Nick himself had tried to call multiple times earlier, without getting an answer. He knew in his heart that it was unlikely that she’d call. Gatsby probably knew that too, but that didn’t stop him from hoping. Gatsby was the most optimistic man that Nick knew. But he was also so much more than that…

Nick despised Gatsby at first, but as time went on he developed a strong affection for the man. He was wonderful, a true dreamer, someone Nick cared deeply about. Was it wrong of him to feel so strongly for him? Was it wrong for him to admire him? Perhaps so, but Nick didn’t care. Just as Gatsby was blinded by his feelings for Daisy, Nick was blinded by his feelings for Gatsby. Of course, Gatsby was unaware of this. It was obvious that Jay only desired one person, and even if he _did_ like Nick romantically, what good would that do? It would be impossible for the two of them to ever have a legal relationship. They would have to keep it a secret, which Nick was willing to do, but was Gatsby? And besides, Nick knew from experience that it is not easy to hide a relationship with someone.

Nick tried his hardest to not think about that. Gatsby was his friend before anything else. He would be able to push his feelings aside. (He desperately tried to ignore the fact that he’d never - not once - missed work for anyone else.)

Nick walked over to Gatsby’s pool, calling out his name. Gatsby jumped a bit at first, then he flashed Nick that beautiful smile and gestured for him to come join him.

“Did you want a bathing suit, old sport?” Gatsby asked. “I can ask one of my servants to go get you one.”

Nick nodded. “Sounds great,” he said, taking off his shoes and dipping his feet into the cool water.

“She still hasn’t called,” Gatsby said. “I don’t know what she’s waiting for. She hasn’t called you by any chance, has she?”

“No. I’m sorry,” Nick said. 

Gatsby didn’t say anything, only nodded his head. “I still have faith,” he told Nick. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“Yes. I chose not to go,” Nick answered, leaving it at that. 

One of Gatsby’s servants, someone that Nick didn’t recognize, brought out a spare bathing suit at that moment.

“Let me know if it doesn’t fit you, I got plenty of others,” Gatsby told him.

“This will be fine, thank you.” 

“Do you want anything else?”

“No. It’s kind of you to offer, though.”

Nick changed quickly and climbed into the pool. The water was a comfortable temperature. Gatsby floated on his back and stared up at the sky. For a minute, Nick thought that perhaps he’d been forgotten, but then Gatsby spoke.

“Do you think she still cares about me, old sport?” His voice was quiet when he asked the question, almost as if he hoped Nick wouldn’t hear him.

For a moment, Nick didn’t respond. He was certain that they both knew the answer, but he was also certain that Jay did not want to hear it.

“I wish I could answer that,” he said.

“And why can’t you?”

 _Because I know you won’t like it._ “Because I don’t even know myself.”

“What if she doesn’t care anymore?” Gatsby asked. “What do I do then?”

“You learn to cope,” Nick told him. “You learn to make a life without her. You tell yourself that she isn’t everything, that-”

“But she is, old sport! She is everything! Would my life even have a point without her in it?”

“Yes! Of course it would, Jay! There’s so much more to you than just her, and more people than her care about you.”

“Like who?”

“Me! Can you not see that? Can you not see that I care about you, perhaps more than anyone else?” Nick sounded angry, and he knew he should _feel_ angry, but he wasn’t. If anything, he felt desperate to convince his friend of his words.

“Of course I know that,” Gatsby said. “I just want her, too.”

“Well, maybe it’s time to let go of that desire,” Nick argued. “The people that you love can’t always love you back. It can’t always work out, no matter what you do. The only way to handle that is to just move on with your life, deal with it, and be grateful for what you _do_ have.”

“That's easier said than done,” Gatsby sighed.

“I know,” Nick said, trying to make his voice sound gentler. “Jay, you’re one of the most positive people I ever met. I think it’s great that you hold on to your dreams. But sometimes you must face reality, too. You can’t always get what you want.”

Gatsby closed his eyes, trying to take in Nick’s words. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“You won’t ever be alone. Like I said, you have me.”

“I am thankful for you, old sport, more than I can express. Forgive me for being so hung up on her all the time, I just find it so difficult to not think of her. Do you really think she won’t call me?”

Nick didn’t have the heart to tell him that he did in fact think that, so he just shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know anything for sure.” As he spoke, he noticed a figure moving in the distance, beyond the bushes. He squinted, and after a few moments he was able to make out the face of George Wilson. A nervous, confused feeling overwhelmed him, but he didn’t point it out to Gatsby. Not yet. Gatsby didn’t notice, he was still floating on the mattress with his eyes closed, his back to Wilson.

Only then did Nick remember that Gatsby had taken the blame for the accident that killed Myrtle. Maybe that was why Gatsby was particularly upset today, because he had taken the blame for Daisy and she still didn’t bother to contact him. He’d tried to block the accident out of his mind prior to that moment, truth be told. Now it was all he could think about.

George Wilson moved closer, and only then did Nick see the pistol in his hand.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Wilson raised his gun directly at Gatsby. Nick hurled himself in front of him, making himself the only barrier between the bullet and Jay. The gunshot hurt Nick’s ears. The bullet hurt his abdomen. He struggled to catch his breath. Another gunshot went off. Nick’s eyes skirted around, trying to see where it landed. His eyes fell on Wilson, now lying in a heap on the ground.

_Oh. He must have shot himself._

Nick registered a yelling behind him, and it took him a few seconds to realize that it was Gatsby’s voice, shouting for an ambulance. Gatsby gently carried Nick out of the water and laid him down next to the pool.

“You’ll be alright, you’ll be alright, I promise,” he said. “Alright, alright, they’ll take you to the hospital and you’ll be fine - you’ll survive, you won’t die, you’ll be fine, old sport.” He grabbed a towel from the side of the pool and pressed it to Nick’s stomach, trying to slow down the blood flow without hurting him.

Nick attempted to focus on Gatsby’s face instead of the pain in his stomach, and he frowned when he noticed the tears in Jay’s eyes.  
“Are you hurt?” he asked, not even noticing how raspy his voice sounded. “Why are you crying? Wilson didn’t shoot you, right?”

“N- no. It’s because I’m worried about you! For a moment there I thought...I thought you were dead…”

“No, but you would’ve been had I not jumped in front of you!”

“Shh, I know that, old sport, don’t talk. So it was Wilson?”

“Yeah,” Nick whispered, not having the energy to elaborate.

The ambulance arrived then, and Gatsby sat there crammed in the back with Nick, holding onto his hand tightly. About halfway through the drive, Nick began to lose consciousness, and Gatsby began to panic - in fact, he was shaking and hyperventilating so badly that a doctor told him to go back home and not return until he’d calmed down. He followed half of that advice - he somehow managed to walk his way back to his mansion, but for the life of him he could not calm himself. He could only think one thing: _It should’ve been me._

When Nick finally came to, his first thought was of Gatsby. He was alone in the hospital room. It was terrifying - he was by himself and he had no idea how Gatsby was doing or where he was. Just as he was truly starting to feel anxious, a nurse walked into the room to check up on Nick and ask him how he was doing. The only word that Nick could get out was, “Gatsby.”

“Gatsby?” the nurse repeated. “Are you feeling okay, sir?”

“I need Gatsby,” Nick answered. “Took this bullet for him, where is he? Come on! Jay Gatsby, you have to know him! He’s known all over. He came over here with me. Where’s he at?”

“If you give me his phone number, I can call him for you,” the nurse answered. “But first I have to talk to you about your condition. You’re a lucky man, Mr. Carraway. That bullet narrowly missed any vital organs, and it’s a miracle you didn’t die from blood loss. Had you gotten here any later, you’d be gone. You _will_ be okay, though. Expect some pain for about two months - none right now, we’ve given you morphine - and be incredibly gentle around the wound area. Don’t overexert yourself. You may experience some mental issues as well, such as anxiety or nightmares. Mental trauma from gunshot wounds is more common than you might think.”

“I know,” Nick answered. “I was in The Great War, I’ve heard this before. I think I’ll be just fine.”

“Oh, is that so? In that case, thank you for your service to our country,” the nurse said. “Now, about this Gatsby…”

Nick gave the nurse Gatsby’s phone number, and then he could feel himself already beginning to drift off to sleep once more.

When he awoke again, he noticed that the sun was setting. He glanced over to his right side and saw Gatsby there, who held a newspaper in his hands but didn't make an effort to read it.

“Jay,” Nick said, his voice coming out quieter and more broken than he intended. Gatsby still managed to hear him, immediately whipping his head around and smiling at Nick.

“Glad to see that you’re awake, old sport,” he said. “I apologize for not being here when you first woke up. I was here on and off for a few days...I suppose you just woke at the wrong time. I wanted to spend more time here with you, but I had to go back to my house to sleep and to eat.”

“It’s okay!” Nick said immediately. “It’s fine, I was worried for a few minutes when I woke up but then the nurse called you and you came back so it’s good! I’m happy you’re here. How long was I out for?” He spoke in a quick and excited matter, which he attributed to both the drugs and Jay’s presence.

“About four days,” Gatsby answered. “We thought you weren’t going to make it,” he told him gravely. “Or, at least...I thought that. The staff here at the hospital all seemed optimistic, although I suppose they have to be. What did they tell you?”

“That I’ll be fine so long as I take proper care of the wound. I’ve suffered worse before, when I was in the war. I’ll be alright. Did I miss anything while I was out?”

“The shooting has made some headlines,” Gatsby answered. “You’ve made a bit of your name for yourself, listen to this: _‘Man attempts to assassinate Jay Gatsby, neighbor takes the bullet.’”_ Gatsby laughed and tossed the paper aside. “Wilson is dead by the way, he killed himself with the same gun that got you. It’s sparked a bit of controversy and gossip, but don’t focus on that. It’ll calm down before you know it.”

“Maybe not. Those reporters never seem to move on from you.”

“Right, I’ve just learned to ignore it,” Gatsby said with a chuckle. “On a serious note, may I ask why you did it? You almost died for me. You know that if Wilson had hit me, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Because I don’t want you to die, isn’t that obvious?”

“That’s ridiculous, old sport, there are plenty of people who don’t want me dead. None of them would jump in front of a bullet for me.”

“But I did. When I saw Wilson aiming that pistol at you, the only thing I could think of was that I had to protect you, and the only way I could do that was by shielding you. It was the most logical response.”

“Jumping in front of a bullet for someone is not a logical action!” Gatsby cried. “You could’ve died! I keep telling you that and you don’t seem to get it. I’ll never be able to pay you back for this, nor understand why you chose to act that way.”

“You can pay me back my staying out of harm’s way when I’m not there to protect you,” Nick answered seriously. He couldn’t lose Gatsby. He couldn’t imagine a world without him.

“You could've died,” Gatsby said again. Perhaps that was all he was capable of saying.

“ _You_ could've died. That would’ve been so much worse than me dying.”

“Don’t say that stuff,” Gatsby said, his voice pained. “It’s not true.”

“To me, it is. A world without you would be incredibly dull. A world _with_ you is lively and bright and hopeful. You’re my best friend, Jay. You’re...beyond that. I’d fall to pieces if you were to die. So of course I took that bullet for you, because I saw nothing else to do.”

Gatsby didn’t say a word, only looked at Nick tearfully. He finally managed to get out a few words: “You’re all I have, Nick. You’re my only true friend.” It was the first time that he’d ever called Nick by his name, and that was enough to make Nick crumble too.

Gatsby visited Nick every day after that, for which Nick was extremely grateful - it was awfully boring otherwise. Gatsby was Nick's only visitor at first, until finally Jordan Baker showed up. Nick was a bit surprised to see her, as the two of them had broken things off and Nick had never intended for them to reconnect. Still, Nick was happy to see her. It was comforting to know that she cared.

The two of them didn’t say much to each other, just sat there. Jordan called Nick _careless_ and Nick thought that that was incredibly hypocritical of her, but he didn’t want to start a fight so he ignored it. It wasn’t like he could argue - it had been an incredibly rash decision on his part. Still, it was better to have a bullet lodged in his side than to have Gatsby be dead.

Only once did Gatsby bring up Daisy - in passing, he asked Nick if she’d visited, and Nick told him that she had not. 

“She hasn’t visited me, either. Nor has she called,” Gatsby explained, and he didn’t say anything else. Nick supposed it was because there were much greater things to worry about now. Funnily enough, Nick still focused on his own unrequited love, despite his near-death experience. He hadn't expected to survive the shooting - that was the whole point, to die in place of Gatsby. Yet there they were, both alive and sitting together in the same room.

Nick did not allow himself to hope, as hope was a dangerous thing.


	2. Chapter 2

Time passed slowly in the hospital, which was to be expected. Nick could handle it when he had Gatsby, Jordan, or even a doctor there to keep him company, but otherwise it was hell. Luckily for him, he very rarely spent much time by himself.

He learned to expect Gatsby and Jordan (the former more so), but that was about it. No one else seemed to care enough, and it wasn’t as if he was dying and had people desperate to share their parting words with him. No, he was going to be just fine.

Needless to say, Nick was a bit shocked when a swarm of reporters barged into his hospital room one day. Looking back, perhaps it shouldn’t have been much of a surprise, given the situation with Gatsby. Still, Nick was fairly certain that these people were not supposed to be in the room.

They asked him questions, about the shooting and about Gatsby, about Myrtle and George Wilson, about Daisy, and at first Nick didn’t answer. What was there to say? It was all too much, and besides, his own memory was fuzzy - partly due to drugs, partly due to the fact that he was trying to block the whole incident out of his mind.

However, as the day went on and the reporters continued to attack Gatsby, Nick found himself becoming more and more frustrated.  
It was one question that made him break - one question, asked by a short young man with huge glasses.

“Why did you take a bullet for a murderer?”

In the reporter’s defense, Gatsby _was_ a murderer as far as everyone knew. And that was the problem.

“He is NOT a murderer!” Nick shouted, trying to push the groups of reporters away. “Go away! You’re not even supposed to be here! Go away, you shouldn’t be here, and Gatsby is not a murderer!”

“He ran over that woman! He ran over Myrtle Wilson! He’s a murderer!”

“No.” Nick pushed himself up on the cot. “Gatsby did not kill Myrtle Wilson, that was Daisy Buchanan! Gatsby just took the blame for her! Now please leave me alone!”

Right after he said it, he started to wonder why. He didn’t mean to say it, not really. Despite Nick’s tendency towards honesty, he never intended to tell the truth about what happened to Myrtle. It was an impulsive confession, and Nick was rarely impulsive. He'd only wanted to protect Gatsby.

The reporters continued to ask some more questions, but Nick successfully shooed them away this time. He assumed that they had gotten all the information that they needed. His mind heavy with drugs and annoyance, he drifted back to sleep.

He slept a lot throughout the next few days, perhaps due to how taxing the interactions with the reporters had been. The hospital staff promised that it would never happen again, and so far, they were right. Unfortunately, the reporters were not the only ones who stopped showing up - Gatsby and Jordan were absent as well. Nick felt uneasy, as if they were gone because of him. And if they were gone, what was the point of continuing to stay alive? What if Gatsby hated him for telling the truth? 

At one point, Nick had believed that a world without Jay Gatsby was the worst thing imaginable. He knew that that was wrong now, and that there was one thing slightly worse: A world in which Jay Gatsby hated him.

As the days went on without Gatsby, Nick could feel himself losing hope. There he was, recovering from the bullet that he had taken for Jay, and Jay was...where? Not here. Not with him.

Nick woke up one day, about a week after the confession, and saw Gatsby sitting next to the bed, staring at him. His first thought was to weep, to embrace him, but then he noticed the man’s expression.

Nick had never seen Gatsby so mad and so upset in all the time that he had known him. Gatsby lost his temper with Tom Buchanan a few times, yes, but never as bad as it was now - and to make things worse, the anger was directed at Nick.

Gatsby didn’t yell, scream, or hit Nick - he just stared at him, his expression filled with anger. Not just anger. Depression, too. Nick wasn’t sure what was worse - the fact that Gatsby was angry at him, or the fact that Gatsby was sad because of him.

“I-” Nick started, but Gatsby cut him off. It was actually a good thing that he did so, as Nick had no idea what he had planned to say.

“Why did you do it? Why would you tell them that, especially without my permission?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Nick said. “It just slipped out. I blame the drugs, and the fact that they were irritating me to no end. I- I did it to protect you, Jay.”

“Protect me? All you’ve done is hurt me! What, you thought it would be good to clear my name, didn’t you? Thought it was best to be honest, as you always do? Well, you were wrong!”

“How was I wrong? What are you so angry about? You’re innocent, Jay, and now everybody knows it! Why are you mad at me for that?”

“Don’t play stupid with me. You know why.”

“No, I don’t! Just tell me!”

Gatsby got out of the chair and picked a newspaper up off the floor, flinging it at Nick. He gestured to the headline - _Buchanans Flee East Egg Upon New Discoveries About Myrtle Wilson’s Death._ Nick hadn't had the chance to read the papers yet, and no one came in to inform him, so this was news to him. It wasn't unexpected, though. He understood. Of course they’d leave - Daisy was likely on some type of wanted list now. Nick now understood why Gatsby was so pissed - Daisy was gone, all because of Nick.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Nick said. “You know, you were way too obsessed with her. Obsessed enough to not care about how others may feel about you. Obsessed enough to pretend to be a murderer just to make her look innocent.”

“Oh, don’t you even start with that. You never cared about that before. You helped me, for God’s sake! You tried to bring us back together! Even if not for that, she’s still your cousin. You mean to tell me that you don’t care that she’s gone?”

“Precisely,” Nick said, although that wasn’t entirely the truth. Although he had his issues with Daisy, she was his family. More importantly, she made Jay happy…

Gatsby seemed to detect that Nick was lying, because he said, “So now you finally decided to not be honest. And what for? To make me angry? To hurt me?”

At those words, Nick couldn’t help it - tears filled up in his eyes. “No,” he whispered. “Not to hurt you. I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t do that. Not on purpose. Never.”

“Really? Because that’s precisely what you did, and what you’re doing.” Gatsby stood up then and started to walk towards the door.

“NO!” Nick cried out. “Don’t leave me, please! I’m sorry, okay? Not for telling the truth, but for hurting you! Do you really think that I would hurt you on purpose? I took a goddamn bullet for you, Jay! Why would I hurt you? I did it to help you! To clear your name! I wasn’t thinking about her when I did it, I was thinking about you!” His voice sounded the way he felt - desperate and broken. It would've been so easy to just tell Gatsby his feelings right in that moment. It could even be enough to make Jay forgive him! But it could also be enough to scare Jay, to disgust him. Nick couldn't risk doing that right now, especially when it felt like Jay planned to abandon him regardless.

Gatsby turned around, slowly. “I want some time alone,” he said, sounding somewhat gentle this time. “I will take your words into account. I’m not going to leave you for good, I just need to go home and have some time to myself. You’re all I have now that she’s gone, so I wouldn’t leave you.”

Nick exhaled, slowly. “Thank you,” he whispered. He wanted to say more, to say the words that had been caught on his tongue since the beginning of the summer. But no, now wasn't the right time. It was never the right time.

Gatsby waved Nick goodbye, saying something about how he shouldn't have been so harsh at the beginning of his visit, especially considering the fact that Nick was there because of him in the first place. The words barely reached Nick's ears, though, because they weren't quite what he wished to hear.

“I'll see you,” Nick said, leaning back and watching as Gatsby exited the room.

“I love you,” he whispered to the empty space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow look an update  
> okay uh tbh i questioned whether or not I should do this for awhile and after looking at the grand scheme of the fic as a whole I truly feel as if this was the best decision! So you may not like it right now but it will continue to make more sense as time goes on. Also, it honestly just seemed like the most logical reason for Tom and Daisy to leave in this AU - like, obviously if you have the police on your tail and everyone finds out that you're a murderer then you're going to flee town, right? (Not that I have personal experience or anything...)
> 
> This chapter is shorter than the first one and at first I was upset by this, but since so much stuff goes down I figured it would be best to kinda just accept it as is.
> 
> Also omg i'm sorry if I painted Daisy out to be a bad character or anything. Remember that Nick's thoughts aren't necessarily mine, and this just seemed like the most in-character stuff for him to say, under the circumstances!  
> (If I painted Tom out to be bad, good. he IS bad. Once, my teacher drew a picture of him being guillotined. we all hate Tom.)
> 
> My tumblr is @rated-r-for-grantaire! I post about TGG sometimes, so feel free to check it out!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mild trigger warning for period-typical homophobia, if i can even call it that? basically, Nick is just scared and sad because he knows what could happen if he ever had a relationship with Gatsby, or any man.  
> also the timeline is slightly skewed; in this fic nick & jordan have already broken up, when in the book they don't break up until the very end when Nick is about to back the Midwest. Obviously since Gatsby doesn't die I had to mess around a bit with the events that happened after his death.

Gatsby did not show up the day after that, but Jordan Baker did. Unlike Gatsby, she gave no explanation for seemingly neglecting Nick, just sat down and started to talk to him as if no time had passed at all.

She didn’t even bring up the Buchanans until the very end of her visit, when she asked Nick if they had stopped in to say goodbye to him. 

“No,” Nick told her. “No surprise there. They didn’t say goodbye to Gatsby, either. He came in yesterday, you know. He was really mad at me at first, but he acted like he’ll get over it.” He shrugged, not wanting to give Jordan any more details. Surely it was best to just be casual about the whole ordeal.

“You know, now that they’re gone, maybe you’ll finally have a chance with him,” Jordan said.

“Maybe,” Nick said, not fully registering her words at first. “Wait, what? What are you talking about? I don’t have feelings for him!”

Jordan burst into laughter. “Oh, really? Then why do you seem so happy about maybe having a chance with him? Why do you look at him as if he’s the best thing in the world? You look at him the same way that he used to look at Daisy. I swear, Nick, you’re so damn obvious.”

Nick blushed and looked down. Of course Jordan would figure things out. Of course. She already knew that Nick liked men, as he’d told her at the end of their relationship, but Nick had no idea that she knew about Gatsby.

“Come on, Nick, I want you two to get together as much as you do. I’ve wanted that since I introduced you to him.”

So did I, Nick thought. “Don’t tell anyone,” he begged. “Especially not him.”

“I would never do that!” Jordan told him sincerely, shocked by the idea. “However, if there’s anything I can do to support your cause…” She grinned at him. 

“Thank you, but I just don’t think he would want that. He wouldn’t want to have a secret relationship. I don’t even know if he likes men, let alone if he likes me, and it’s not exactly something I can just ask.” He sighed.

“He had a secret relationship with Daisy, technically speaking. I know it's completely different but- What I'm saying is that you never know who or what he likes, all you know is that he was once in a relationship with Daisy. He could like men, too. I’m pretty sure you and I both know that that kind of thing is much more common than one may originally believe.”

“I guess so,” Nick said quietly.

Jordan moved closer to Nick and patted his shoulder. “You don’t have to tell or ask him anything that you don’t want, but if and when you decide to do so, I’ll be right here.”

“Thank you,” Nick said. “Maybe I will work up the courage one day. I mean, you have to admit that he’s wonderful, right?”

Jordan laughed. “Come on, Nick, you know that I don’t tend to prefer his... _type._ That being said, I definitely see why you like him. I enjoy his company, and I see no reason to dislike him, at least not for any reason that wouldn’t be awfully hypocritical, even by my own standards.”

She pointed towards the door. “I have to leave now. I have a golf tournament, and then I’m going to meet up with a woman I met at a party a few weeks ago. I’ll try to drop by again soon.” With that, she was gone. 

Nick didn’t care that she knew about Gatsby, but only because he trusted Jordan enough to not make a big deal out of it. But what if other people knew? Was he really that obvious? Gatsby didn’t seem to pick up on it, but what if others did? He could be arrested.

_I’m overthinking things,_ Nick decided. _He doesn’t even like me._

The next morning, Nick received some news that temporarily took his mind off of Gatsby: He would be able to go home the next week! The nurse informed him that he had been in the hospital for roughly two months, and it was now mid-October. Nick’s general consensus up until that point was that time moved slowly in the hospital, but now he wasn’t so sure; he had not expected it to be October already.

Nick requested that the nurse call Gatsby, saying that he needed someone to pick him up from the hospital. It was the truth, but there was also a bit more to it: if Gatsby agreed to pick Nick up, then it would mean that he was no longer angry.

Gatsby didn’t answer at first, and Nick tried to not look too much into it.

Gatsby eventually did answer the calls, and he agreed to pick Nick up. It did help to reassure Nick, but he still felt as if something was wrong.

It wasn’t until Gatsby picked Nick up from the hospital that Nick realized just how sad Jay was about the whole thing. He hardly spoke to Nick on the way home, making Nick assume the worst once again, but then Gatsby invited him inside.

“I owe you an apology, old sport,” Gatsby said as Nick followed him inside. “It was wrong of me to ignore you. I’ve been a terrible friend to you recently, and I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

“Of course I forgive you!” Nick said immediately. “I understand. You just needed some time away from me. You’re allowed to be hurt.”

Gatsby stared at him, looking confused. “I’m not- I thought I already told you, old sport. I’m not mad at you for what you did. I’m just sad, to put it mildly. I miss her so much.”

“That’s even worse! You’re hurting because of me! And don’t even say that you’re not, because you are! You told me so! When I was in the hospital you told me that I hurt you…” Nick blubbered.

“It’s not because of you. At first I did blame you, yes, but I’ve come to realize that it’s no one’s fault but my own. Had I not taken the blame for her, you never would have needed to do what you did.”

_Had you not taken the blame for her, Wilson would’ve never came after you and we wouldn’t even be in this situation,_ Nick thought to himself. He didn’t dare speak those words aloud to Gatsby though, as that would be way too cruel. Instead, he simply sat down on Jay’s sofa and stared off into the distance. He almost didn’t notice Gatsby putting an arm around his shoulders.

“I’m selfish,” Gatsby said, and Nick was a bit surprised to hear him admit it. “You almost died for me, and I’m sitting here moping. What can I do for you?”

“Nothing,” Nick said. “You don’t perhaps...love anyone besides her, correct?” He didn’t know why he said it. Had he still been in the hospital, he likely would’ve blamed the drugs, but his mind was clear now and he had no one to blame but himself.

“Of course not,” Gatsby said, and although Nick expected no other answer, he still felt deflated. “Why do you ask?

“I...I don’t know, I suppose I was just curious,” Nick replied. “Have you ever loved anyone else before?”

“No. I’ve _been_ with people, if you catch my drift, especially during the war but...no, I cannot say that I have ever loved anyone else.”

It was the first part of Gatsby’s response that really caught Nick’s attention. “Been with people, huh? How many?”

Gatsby shrugged. “I tend to not keep track,” he replied, looking uncomfortable. “I’m not- this isn’t really the type of thing I want to discuss.”

“I’m not judging you, if that’s the issue. Especially considering the fact that I tend to prefer men exclusively,” Nick blurted out. _Dammit,_ he thought.

To Nick’s surprise and relief, Gatsby barely had any reaction to that. “Really?” he said. “Well, I’m happy that you trust me enough to tell me such a thing. I promise, your secret is safe with me. Does anyone else know this?”

“Just Jordan. Well, and my parents. Daisy probably suspects it - Tom too - but it doesn’t bother me. I mean, no one has much of an issue with it, except for perhaps Tom, but it’s not like he can prove anything.”

“It’s no matter anyway,” Jay said. “It’s not like you’re ever likely to see those two again, and neither am I.”

Nick sighed. Was she really all he ever thought about? There he was, trusting Gatsby with such a huge secret, and all the man could focus on was Daisy.

“I’m starting to feel like that’s for the best,” Nick said. “It never would have worked out between you two anyway.”

Gatsby didn’t respond to that, and quite frankly, Nick was relieved. This was the last thing he wanted to discuss. It would be so much easier to just hate Gatsby for his infatuation with Daisy, and Nick wished that he could. The fact remained, however, that he couldn’t hate him for anything, as much as he tried to. 

Besides, he was not ready to be such a hypocrite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -yes, Jordan is a lesbian, thank you for catching on  
> -Nick came out! big mood!!  
> -Gatsby may not be entirely likable - I kinda wrote him that way on purpose. I mean, he’s obviously in love with Daisy but also...Nick took a bullet for him...it’s very overwhelming for everyone. He IS trying his hardest but it's not easy to let go so easily.  
> -Nick is trying hard to be understanding, mainly because obviously he knows what it’s like to love someone who doesn’t love you back. But also?? He's kinda bitter  
> -my tumblr is rated-r-for-grantaire! Check it out if you have bad taste ;)  
> -it's not really related to this fic, but! I made a Natsby music video https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0clAEKA7npM  
> -if you like the video reblog the tumblr post with the link and promo me mayhaps? :0 http://rated-r-for-grantaire.tumblr.com/post/164461833991  
> -i started school again (im a senior guys y i k e s) and oddly enough, that actually means i'll have MORE time to write so *finger guns* get excited i guess


	4. Chapter 4

Tensions were tight between Nick and Gatsby over the next few days. Gatsby had told Nick that he was welcome at his house, but Nick could tell that Jay really just wanted to be left alone. That was fair and understandable, but it didn’t mean that Nick liked it.

Despite any anger that he might’ve felt towards Jay, though, his love for him overpowered it. No matter what he did, he couldn’t help but think about the fact that maybe he would have a chance with him now, with Daisy gone. Jordan had joked with him about it, but what if it was realistic after all?

Gatsby still made an effort to visit Nick every day, even if things were awkward between the two of them. Nothing could change the fact that Nick had nearly died for Gatsby, so regardless of how the two may have felt towards each other, it was only decent for Gatsby to spend time with Nick.

The two of them avoided the topic of Daisy, keeping their conversations at small talk only - something neither of them were good at. Before, they could get by just fine sitting in silence, but now it just felt weird. Nick hated it. He felt as if he was losing Gatsby, losing his best friend and his love. Gatsby would stop by to make sure he was doing well, yes, but that was about it. 

Nick’s recovery passed by in a blur - at the time, it seemed slow, but he was back to work before he knew it. He was glad to be back on Wall Street - he discovered that he liked talking to the coworkers that he usually avoided, it was a relief to get out of the house, and he overall felt less helpless when we was on the clock. He saw Gatsby less, but that didn’t upset him as much as it should have.

The distance did upset Gatsby though, much to Nick’s surprise. One evening, Nick came home exhausted and miserable - it had been a busy day; a bunch of strangers wanted to know about his near death experience and get up in his business (and, by extension, Gatsby’s and the Buchanans’ business), and he was in a lot of pain. The bullet wound had healed at that point, mostly, but he still struggled to move his arm. Especially that night. He just wanted to go home and sleep.

So of course Gatsby chose that night to show up.

At first, Nick was about to tell him to go away, but he didn’t really want that. He missed Gatsby, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He still loved him, and that seemed to be the cause of all of his issues.

Nick let Gatsby into his house without a complaint. He looked...awful, truthfully. His usually neat and perfect hair was uncombed and very possibly unwashed, and his eyes showed a look of exhaustion. But he was still beautiful in his own Gatsby way.

Nick looked down, leading Gatsby into the living room, unsure of what to say to him. Why was he here right now, anyway?  
“Old sport,” Gatsby started, his voice weak, “I’m not doing so well.”

“I could kind of tell,” Nick said. “Truth to be told, I’m not doing well either. What’s wrong, Jay?”

Gatsby froze a bit at the use of his first name, but then he continued on. “You know.”

“You miss her.”

“I’m sorry,” Gatsby said.

“Don’t be sorry! I should be the one who’s apologizing! I should be more understanding. We’ve already been through this, Jay. You love her, she left you, you’re sad, your life is a mess, and oh look! My life is also a mess!” Nick laughed a little in spite of himself.

Gatsby tried to smile at him, but failed. “But I told myself that I was going to spend more time with you and be less terrible.”

“You aren’t terrible. Seriously, Jay. I’m not going to act like our odd interactions don’t hurt me, but it’s okay.”

“I wish we could go back to how things were before,” Gatsby said.

“You can’t repeat the past,” Nick told him, an echo of what he had tried to teach him over the summer.

“You’ve mentioned that before,” Gatsby said. “I guess I haven’t quite learned my lesson yet, have I? Maybe I’ll accept that someday.”

Nick didn’t respond. He didn’t want to say it aloud, but the idea of repeating the past seemed very appealing. As much as it hurt him to follow Gatsby and Daisy around all summer and watch them be together, it was better than now. Unless…

“Gatsby,” Nick started, unsure of how exactly to phrase his question, “do you think you’ll ever be interested in anyone other than Daisy?”

“Of course not,” Gatsby said. “She was the only one for me.”

He seemed so certain of it. Nick felt his eyes fill up with tears, so he looked away. The last thing he wanted was for Gatsby to seem him cry.

“Really? There’s no one else you might like? Not even a friend who understands you and loves you?” It took all of his willpower to keep his voice from breaking.

“Well...maybe, hypothetically,” Gatsby said. “But is there really anybody out there like that? I’m not sure if anyone loves me.”

 _Oh, if only you knew._ It would’ve been so easy to just tell him right then and there, but Nick kept his mouth shut. Gatsby didn’t reciprocate, that much was obvious, and he was still recovering from his Daisy-induced heartbreak. So Nick remained quiet.

He had to say something, though. He wasn’t about to just there and listen to Gatsby insist that nobody loved him.

“You know, you mean a lot to me. More than anybody else,” Nick said, quickly wiping his  
eyes and looking up at Gatsby. “I wouldn’t be so quick to insist that you’re unlovable. Just because Daisy left doesn’t mean that no one out there loves you. There could be someone, and they could be closer than you think.” There, that was the closest he was going to come to dropping the hint, at least for today.

“I hope that you’re right, old sport,” Gatsby said. And that was that.

 _Oh, I'm so right, and I wish I could tell you just how right I am,_ Nick thought. Had he not been so miserable otherwise, he would have laughed at the situation. For a smart man, Gatsby sure could be a fool.

“Well, I’m here for you, always,” Nick told him. A safe response. “Anything you need, any way I can help...just let me know.”

"I’ll let you know when I know,” Gatsby said. He looked thoughtful for a minute. “This isn’t much, but I was wondering if maybe I could sleep here tonight? I don’t like being in my house alone. It was all for her, you know? It just makes me sad.”

“Of course you can stay here!” Nick said, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “I’ve been kinda lonely over here, too. Stay as long as you want and as often as you want.”

“Thank you, old sport,” Gatsby said. He got off of the couch. “You just got back from work, didn’t you? Have you had dinner yet?”

Nick shook his head. “Do you want to go get something? If not, I could cook.”

“I never knew that you could cook. I can’t. In fact, I almost burned my house down last time I tried.”

Nick laughed, a genuine laugh, for what was probably the first time in months. Gatsby was just too endearing.

“In that case, I’ll make something. I’m too tired to really go out anywhere.”

Nick made soup for the two of them, and at some point during the meal he noticed the domesticity of the situation. Did Gatsby notice it too? Or did it not even exist, and he was just making it all up? 

_Friends. You two are friends and nothing more, and you better just be grateful for that,_ he reminded himself.

He didn’t know that he was staring at Gatsby until the man cleared his throat.

“You okay? You’re looking at me. Intensely. Oh my God, do I have food on my face?” Jay asked, grabbing a handful of napkins.

“No! No, Gatsby, you’re fine. I was just daydreaming, I guess. Your face is okay. I mean, it’s more than okay. I meant that you don’t have anything on it,” Nick stammered, feeling his own face heat up. Could he be any less smooth and any more obvious?

“Good to know,” Gatsby said, looking at Nick for a few seconds before returning to his food.

The rest of the meal passed by without any type of incident, and afterwards the two of them sat in comfortable silence in the living room. Nick wrote, and Gatsby read. Things were going to be okay between the two of them, Nick could already tell.

“Old sport, I’m exhausted,” Gatsby said after about an hour. “I haven’t been sleeping much recently. I don’t like sleeping alone.”

“I know. You've told me that before,” Nick said. “We can go to sleep now. You can borrow some of my nightclothes if you don’t feel like going back home.”

“Thank you, old sport,” Gatsby said. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Like hell you won’t,” Nick said. “You’re joking, right?”

“Well, where else would I sleep?” Gatsby asked.

“My bed?” Nick suggested. “Like a normal person?

“But then where would you sleep?”

“With you,” Nick said. He froze up. “Uh...unless you prefer that I didn’t, I mean, uh, I also have a guest bedroom across from mine. But if your whole thing is that you don’t like to sleep alone, then surely-”

“It’ll be fine,” Gatsby said. “We can share your bed, no problem.”

 _Okay, so this is happening,_ Nick thought as he climbed into bed with Gatsby that night. _But it means nothing._

Gatsby, Nick realized, was very touched-starved. He kept cuddling up next to him and holding him, which was not something Nick had any complaints about. He talked in his sleep, too, but it was mainly just indecipherable mutters. His body temperature was incredibly warm, almost to the point of concern. But it was also nice in a way - Nick was usually cold, so it was an excuse to remain close to him.

Nick woke up before Gatsby, but he didn’t want to disturb him, so he kept lying there with him. Gatsby looked very peaceful when he slept, when he didn’t have to “be” anyone. Nick wished that he could stay at ease like that all the time, because if anyone deserved peace, it was Gatsby.

Nick felt a bit creepy watching him sleep like that, so he closed his eyes. He must’ve closed them for too long and fallen asleep again, because next thing he knew, the bed was empty. Gatsby was sitting at the kitchen table downstairs, dressed in his clothes from the night before and sipping coffee out of a cup.

“Good morning, old sport!” he said cheerfully. “Don’t worry, this coffee is from my house, I went back over there to get some, then I came back here. I wouldn’t steal any of your stuff.”

“It’s okay,” Nick said. “I mean, you can take my stuff. I wouldn’t mind.”

Gatsby grinned at him. “Thank you,” he said. “And thank you for letting me stay...it means a lot.”

“Of course,” Nick said. “You’re always welcome here, remember?”

“I’m not used to hearing that,” Gatsby said. “You’re so good to me, old sport.”

“There’s no reason for me not to be,” Nick told him.

Gatsby nodded. “Hey...could I maybe stay here long term for awhile? Just to support you, and myself, I suppose. I think it would benefit both of us, old sport.”

“Yes!” Nick practically jumped at the author. “You can! Stay with me as long as you want!”

“I will.” Gatsby reached forward, awkwardly patting Nick on the shoulder. “I’ll stay.”

 _It means nothing, it means nothing!_ Nick told himself again.

It did not mean nothing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said I'd have more time to write? Yeah. Sorry. In my defense I literally forgot that I'd have to apply to college and shit. So I forgot that I'd be busy. I hope that this update managed to at least somewhat satisfy everyone, though! I figured they needed some happiness. I do wish that it was less rushed, but oh well. At this point i'm just happy to get something out.  
> I'm not gonna make any promises about updates this time. The only thing I'm gonna say is:  
> -Rehearsal for my musical has started, which is a busy time but i have a lot of free time during rehearsals.  
> -AP classes kill me, but I have a lot of free time in between assignments and during study halls. Also I just finished my last final!  
> -Winter break is here, but I'll be busy (i'm going to New York hell yes)  
> -So who knows!!  
> -One of the reason why I kinda neglected this is because of something else Gatsby that I'm working on: A musical! So I'm not completely useless!  
> -As always, my tumblr is @rated-r-for-grantaire!!

**Author's Note:**

> I am literally terrified about uploading this?? Lol help me.  
> Title is from the song "Drops Of Jupiter" by Train!  
> I feel like this is going to be one of those fics where the chapters get longer (and better, I hope) as I continue to upload.  
> But yeah, please let me know what you think! I've had this idea in my head for awhile now. I'm pretty sure all of my research about shit is accurate but let me know if something's off - apparently I don't know as much about the 20s as I originally thought!  
> Comments and kudos give me life, and you can also contact me on tumblr at rated-r-for-grantaire!


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